


A Tale of Romance and Chivalry

by Phylix



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blizzard World Date fic, First Dates, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, meddling siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phylix/pseuds/Phylix
Summary: Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada have been sent to Blizzney World, thinking there is a Talon plot of terrorism happening at the merriest place on the planet.  They quickly figure out it is a set up from their meddling siblings and decide to enjoy the day, get to know each other a little better, and maybe have a little romance along the way?Genji and Fareeha are not content to just let their brothers go through. Both men are idiots when it comes to their feelings, so they tag along to help out just in case anything goes sour. What they didn't expect to find was a Talon plot at Blizzard World. They especially did not expect to find the Reaper.





	A Tale of Romance and Chivalry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muja/gifts).



Overwatch was meant to be a place for forgiveness and redemption. A place where Hanzo’s particular set of skills could be tested and used for the betterment of humanity instead of sinfully wasted. 

His expectations were surpassed the day he realized he was not brought on as an assassin to work in the shadows, like he originally planned, but as a statistician and strategic advisor. 

All thanks to Genji, who touted his older brother’s qualities beyond that of a weapon and allowed the chain of command to see him as someone useful in the organization.

He rather liked the new role it brought. He understood better than most how to run a competent group of individuals that worked in the shadows. Except for this time, Overwatch did not wish always to remain a shadow government organization. It wanted to one day be brought back into the public light and once again defend the world from international threats.

And Hanzo would be one of the ones leading them there. Father would be rolling in his grave to see both his sons talents wasted on such pursuits, though he would have been pleased to see that finally they had found common ground and were leading together, as he always intended.

What Hanzo had not expected was to be standing stock still while waiting in an enormous queue with an honest-to-god cowboy who was dressed down for the occasion. Gone were the spurs and gun holster that usually accompanied the man. Instead, he stood adorned in a well-worn t-shirt that toted some band Hanzo did not know paired with his trademark jeans, boots and hat. 

McCree’s thumbs looped into his belt buckle and drew Hanzo’s eye to the garish belt buckle that remained, the trademarked ‘BAMF’ exchanged with something more fitting for the day ahead. A dark red shield with the emblem for the horde emblazoned in silver behind a set of decorative battle axes. Of course, McCree would be one to own something so garish.

Of course, he would play the horde.

“Keep staring at my crotch, and a man may take that as a proposition.” 

Hanzo felt the heat radiating from his cheeks as he slowly drew his gaze upwards. Quickly looking away would only make it worse and give the damned man more ammunition for later. “I was just amazed that a man of your caliber would own something so...tacky.” 

“Tacky?!” McCree pressed a hand to his chest and gasped. “My word, Hanzo, absolutely nothing in my wardrobe is ever tacky. I am just getting into the mood of the day and enjoying my time here in the merriest place in all the realms.”

Hanzo snorted a reply, quickly covering his mouth with the back of his hand to keep the other man from seeing. “What are we even doing here,” He mumbled as his eye looked around at the sea of families that surrounded them from every angle.

“Well, I can tell you how I ended up in this mess,” McCree answered. His tone remained even and cool, though his eyes darted around expectedly. “Fareeha is a nasty, mean witch of a woman when she wants to be. Never take her up on a challenge of basketball. Ever.” He raised the back of his hand to his forehead and wiped away the tiny beads of sweat that were already forming under the hot Californian sun. 

“Miss Song asked for me to take her place,” Hanzo stated. “Genji came to me yesterday with her wishes. There is a charity game she is playing online this weekend and since I was looking to go on more missions.”

McCree let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Shimada, I thought you were smarter ‘en that. We were duped.”

“Indeed, I have,” Hanzo felt the heat at the back of his neck as he looked and away from those whiskey-colored eyes. His thumbs came up and hooked themselves into the straps of the bag attached at his back as the line began to lurch forward. Behind him, a small child pressed into the back of his legs, almost as if pushing him would get them through the front gates even faster. 

Genji had approached him last night, after his meditations and expressed a desire for Hanzo to take over Hana’s role in the upcoming mission. Talon forces were spreading, and intel stated that the next attack would be a public one. The fear was that Blizzard World would become said target and they needed to do a walkthrough of the park and see if it was any danger. A mission, Genji explained that was far below his brother’s skill level, but simple.

A thrill of excitement shot up through his spine as Genji pulled out the dossier. He would be traveling with the younger Amari. Together they would pose as tourists and move around the park, looking for signs of Talon and checking on the security of the park.

He planned to ditch the woman straight away, citing a need to split up and cover more ground. Hanzo was in no way going to reveal to anyone his desire to travel around and enjoy the day. 

Then McCree showed up on the Orca, all smiles and cavalier attitude. He dropped easily into the seat next to Hanzo and expressed how unusual it was that they would be on a mission together again, especially since both men’s files plainly stated that they should never work alone together.

“Merriest place on earth,” McCree repeated to himself, his gaze turned to the brilliant electric blue bars that spanned across the entire entrance to keep out unpaid visitors. “What would make me merry is shit they don’t sell here.” He reached up to fiddle with the ever-present cigar, only to meet the air. A faint blush crossed over his cheeks, showing off the slight line of freckles hidden there as he dropped his hand. “Fancy working with you again,”

Hanzo blinked, looking away from the dots that lined just over the bridge of the other man’s nose and looked at his eyes. “What are you-”

McCree awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, it’s nice.” He stammered. “I mean, we got off to a rough start, what with the knife pulling and whatnot.”

“You pulled the knife,” Hanzo reminded him. “I took your gun.”

“Well, yeah,” McCree’s lazy, lopsided smile returned to his lips. “I mean, I like you a helluva lot more now than I did then. I was just stating it was nice...that they trust us alone again,” His words came out a jumbled mess of awkwardness and southern accent.

That was just McCree’s way, Hanzo came to realize. Hanzo spent a great deal of time observing the man. He was a smooth talker to those he didn’t know. The closer you drew to him, the more awkward the conversations seemed to be, until you once again reached that comfortable place of being where he considered you almost like family.

To those who didn’t know him, they would assume his interactions with Ana Amari were flirtatious in nature. Endless endearments bubbled out of the cowboy with compliments that were borderline amourous. That, coupled with the removal of his hat, and his need to look presentable in her presence led anyone who did not understand their unique bond into thinking he was her paramour. 

Ana, for her part, enjoyed calling McCree out publicly, making the other man turn the most delirious shade of red Hanzo had ever seen in full view of the entire team. 

Similarly, he flirted well with Lucio, charming the young activist with his smooth words, applauding his leadership and attributes. McCree would sling a casual arm around the medic’s shoulder and jostling the younger man until it left the DJ almost as perplexed and dumbstruck. McCree would then go with just a slight tip to his hat, practically oblivious to how affected the other was to his careless informality.

Hanzo did not fit into either of those two categories. He was a newcomer to the group, but already he had a history with every established member of Overwatch. McCree had never once casually complimented his skill with double entendres, nor had he ever laid a hand on Hanzo’s being. McCree was not familiar either. He did not treat Hanzo with simple jests that would leave the older members to chortle.

Instead, Hanzo’s first few weeks were nothing more than cold stares and threats of violence. McCree kept a distance between them, implying that any proximity to the archer would leave one of them in the hospital wing. Hanzo knew he would never reach that level of comfort with any of the team. He was nothing more than just an advantage to team composition.

“Any sign of ‘em?”

Hanzo felt the blush creep down his cheeks and across his neck as he was caught again lost in his thoughts. He shook his head once. “No. Not unless Talon has started utilizing homogenous family vacations as a cover.”

Jesse let out a more relaxed chuckle as he took another long stride forward before stopping again. “Jesus, you would think that this is some sort of amusement park, wouldn’t cha?” He leaned over and nudged Hanzo’s shoulder lightly with his own. Electricity cascaded down his arm, leaving his fingertips tingling in the wake of the small, familiar gesture “Loosen up. People will stare.”

“I am relaxed,” Hanzo mumbled, feeling the muscles in his back tighten to spite him. He took in a long breath as the child behind him brushed against the back of his legs again. “I hate crowds.”

“Same,” McCree reached out and grabbed his shoulders, maneuvering Hanzo around until he was standing in front of the other and the child behind him stopped pushing. Hanzo’s breath caught in his chest. It was as if his lungs forgot to move. His shoulders tightened as he felt McCree’s thumbs gently press into his rigid muscles. “Breath, Shimada. No one here is gonna attack. Seriously, Fareeha didn’t want the post because she said it would be boring. And stop looking like you might just donkey kick that kid behind us. Parent don’t usually like when their kid breaks all the bones in their face.”

His hands remained on Hanzo’s shoulders as, again, they took a step forward. They were the next in line to go through. Hanzo felt an ache in his belly as his perception pinpointed onto those two hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. His brain fixated on the warmth that radiated from the other man’s simple touch, how casual he could appear. “I guess not,” Hanzo mumbled and resisted the urge to both shake his hands off of him and reach up and entwine their fingers together at the same time. It would feel good to have the warmth of his grip in his own hand. He would feel so comfortable, pressed palm-to-palm with another human. Was it reasonable to just-

“Next,” A chipper woman with dark brown bangs smiles, her mouth unusually broad and far too lively for someone working in the blinding California summer. 

McCree’s hands drop away as he moves forward, leaving Hanzo again to feel cold. “That’s us,” He smiled as he stepped forward and handed their tickets over to the woman. A second worker reached out, taking both their bags into his possession to inspect. 

“Oh!” The chipper woman squeaked and raised her hands excitedly to the small ‘o’ her mouth made. “oh goodness gracious me!” She gasped and looked up at the both of them with wide eyes.

Hanzo felt his blood run cold. Around them, crew members turned on him with their fake, plasticine smiles and began to applaud. Hanzo turned to McCree, who was standing just as dumbstruck as he felt, his hand instinctively on his belt, reaching for a weapon.

“Congratulations!” The peppy woman bounced forward on the balls of her feet and reached forward, fastening something onto McCree’s shirt before turning and doing the same to Hanzo. “Have a magical day!”

The gates clicked, giving them entrance. McCree made a show of quickly thanking the woman and the bag checker as he gathered their bags. His other arm fell heavily over Hanzo’s shoulders and pressed, limiting Hanzo’s reflexes and preventing him from lashing out at the woman with the plastic smile. 

McCree kept his arm securely around Hanzo’s shoulder as he moved them through the confectionary scented main street.”Remember, we can’t kill anybody,” McCree said through a forced smile as he looked down at Hanzo. “Family friendly, remember,” He nodded down at Hanzo until the other repeated the action.

No killing was the one rule Winston instilled in them for this mission. This was a family resort. No weapons. No fighting. No death. “Why-” He started.

“You looked about to ram your fist into that poor girl’s throat when she pinned ya,” McCree slowed his stride to a stop, just outside a shop that smelled of vanilla. His arm dropped away, and he turned to face Hanzo. “Now don’t get mad.”

“I am not mad,” Hanzo frowned and looked up at the cowboy. “She touched me, which annoyed me, but I am not angry. You do not have to worry that I will cause a scene or embarrass Overwatch in any way.” Indignation flared within him at the thought, was that how McCree saw him? A man that could not control his temper, who exploded at the mildest thing?

Under his skin, he could still feel the heat of McCree’s body pressed against his side. He ached.

His gaze turned to McCree’s chest as he gathered himself. His eye fell on the bright red button that the woman placed on his shirt. It was a custom, Genji had explained, to showcase what you came to the park to celebrate. Traditionally, birthdays, graduations and family reunions were the most common, and they pinned a small, metal button to your shirt. He was to prepare for that.

McCree’s red button caught the light. The red of the button contrasted on the black of his shirt. On it was two bovine creatures standing hand in hand, gazing wistfully at one another. Tauren, Hanzo remembered, part of the horde. He smirked a little. How fitting.

He reached out an adjusted the pin until it was straight, watching as the light reflected the gold, glittering lettering that rose just above the two happy figures. 

‘Just Married’

He blanched. “Genji.”

He turned his gaze to his button as McCree made a slight choking noise in his throat. His was blue, showing off two high elves, again looking merry as they embraced. His lettering was silver and sported the same message as McCree’s, a belligerent ‘Just Married.’ 

“That little shit.” Hanzo’s heart beat madly against his chest as his gaze turned up again. McCree’s lips pursed. A deep, red blush cascaded over his face, though he tried to hide it behind his wide-brimmed hat.

“Don’t cause a scene,” Hanzo reminded McCree. “We will kill Genji tomorrow. Today we must pretend as if we are having fun.”

“This smells of Fareeha’s bullshit,” McCree pulled the hat off his head and ran a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. Hanzo could see the blush radiating down the thick column of his neck as his eyes darted around, looking at everyone but Hanzo. “See, I already doubted when that little pest came to me and said there was a mission here. I knew- I knew, something hinky was up. She would never pass up a free vacation like this. ‘Oh Jesse,’” His voice went higher in pitch, imitating the other agent’s tone. “‘I have so much to do around here. I cannot possibly take this mission, please it’s just a day. Look out for bad guys.’ Bullshit.”

Hanzo gaped as he watched McCree take a long breath. Slowly, the redness faded until the barest hint rested against his cheeks and he looked back to Hanzo. “There ain’t any danger here,” He mumbled, almost embarrassed by the predicament.

“Meddling siblings,” Hanzo agreed. 

McCree nodded, once to himself before he looked back down at the pin attached to his shirt. “Fuck it,” He sighed. “We are here; they got us where they want us. Might as well make a day of it. I ain’t ever been here before and might as well take advantage of the free trip.”

Hanzo shrugged his shoulders and looked around the main street. Around them sat colorful buildings and shops, touting the logo of the amusement park with outrageous price tags. “I mean, it would look suspicious if we left a half hour into the park opening. We might as well stay and at least see why so many people choose to come to such a place.”

McCree nodded again as if assuring himself that it would be suspicious if two grown men just left the park this early in the day. “Do you think they gave me Taurens cause of the cowboy hat?” He smirked.

Hanzo looked down at the two happy elves on his badge. “I doubt this marriage will last.” He felt the corners of his lip curl upwards as McCree quizzical look. “You are Horde, and I am Alliance, this can never work out.” 

_______

“Where do you think they are?” Fareeha’s foot tapped impatiently against the concrete floor. She scanned the mass of people surrounding her, looking for the familiar Stetson. The line to enter the park had grown since their arrival, making it nearly impossible to see anything.

“Already in, knowing Hanzo,” Genji replied, his face buried in the map of Blizzard World. “He probably made sure they were here at least an hour before opening to make sure they could get a lay of the area before entering. He probably has scouting locations already mapped out for them.”

Fareeha snorted and rolled her eyes. “How long do you think it will take for them to realize this is a setup?”

“If they are already in the park, they know,” Genji smiled wickedly up at the other. “I was...less than honorable when I made my reservations. “Neither of them would allow themselves a day off. They are both incapable of just having fun,” He added at her incredulous look. “I may have said they were celebrating their Honeymoon.” 

“You fool!” Fareeha snorted and crossed her arms over her chest “Do you think that just saying they are married is going to get either of those idiots together? Have you never seen ‘The Parent Trap’? You and I must force them together. Make them see just how perfect they are together. It is only through wacky circumstances and hijinks that this will ever work out.”

“And, dear friend, what have you managed to do to obtain this ‘Parent Trap’ of sorts?” Genji smiled. 

“I changed the itinerary.” Genji raised an eyebrow as Fareeha pulled out a pamphlet and handed it over. “A friendly competition,” she explained. “They both wish to prove themselves around the other, why not send them on a little...Side Quest. Hanzo will have to loosen up. It is in his competitive nature to show off his skills, which Jesse finds sexy. He will have no choice but to fall head over heels.”

Genji frowned as he flipped the pamphlet over, looking at the tasks ahead. “Did you see what the grand prize was?”

She waved him off. “No one wins the grand prize. You would have to be a champion marksman, tracker, and genius to win.”

“They will get an all-expense paid trip to the park for five days, plus a stay in the luxury honeymoon suite,” Genji read off the pamphlet, before thrusting it back. “If they win, you know they are going to head right to that suite and bone.”

“Gross.”

Genji smirked and linked his arm around hers. “Let’s go make sure that is a reality.”

_________

The engineers of Blizzard World created a wonderfully elaborate system of drawing the crowds up to Stormwind, leading tourists on a predetermined path deeper into the park. Hanzo marveled at the ingenuity of the simple ways they tricked a person right into the simple shops that lined the main pathway. 

The shops smelled of sweet baked goods that made Hanzo’s stomach growl and twist with want. Warm, sweet vanilla wafted through his senses as McCree reached down and locked their fingers together as families moved past them quickly, trying to make their way up to the designated photo locations.

Hanzo looked down and lost the words.

“Dun wanna lose you,” McCree mumbled out, giving his hand a light squeeze. “You look about to wander off.”

Hanzo smiled and rolled his eyes, allowing his hand to stay warmly entwined with the other man. 

“What?” McCree smiled warmly. “I know how you get around baked goods.” He veered left, pulling Hanzo away from the small shops and away from the thrall of visitors to a less crowded area and, were smaller dark rides scattered along with amusing shops of curios selling more useless trinkets. Sweet, tinny carnival music played over the rooftops, blocking out the sounds of other people and leaving them both in their own little world.

McCree’s hand tightened around his as he pulled Hanzo down to stand in the short queue for ‘Escape from the Stockade’ with a wink that fluttered in Hanzo’s chest. “Fareeha said that it is a tradition to ride this first. I am not one much with breaking with tradition.”

His hand stayed locked around Hanzo's as another cast member in front of them ushered people into the track cars. “I will never be one to break away from tradition,” Hanzo said, turning up his nose while McCree let out another jovial laugh. 

He laughed often today, which was not unusual for the man, he often sat in good humor, turning everything into light humor to set others at ease. It felt different though. That cutting edge of worry that framed every interaction seemed to melt away. 

McCree’s eyes crinkled with delight as above them an animatronic goblin cackled and swayed. Hanzo felt his heart beat faster and harder in his chest as those golden brown eyes turned back to him. They journeyed deeper into the dark ride, through the animatronics, giving them both a backstory of guards threatening them with arrest. Finally, they reached the front of the line where a cast member dressed as the animated beings set them down side by side, playing their bags by their feet. “Please keep all hands and feet inside the stockade at all times,” He warned and stood back as the car lurched forward slowly through another door and into a dark room.

“So what is the story here?” Hanzo whispered as a cheery song began to play while the car bumped along the scene of a dirt road.

“We were arrested for terrible crimes and are now going off to the stockade for punishment,” He whispered. “Fareeha said this was one of her favorite rides as a-” He grunted as the ride lurched backward into the darkness. The car tilted back until Hanzo felt his body slip against the back of the car as a noose dropped in from the ceiling. “Shit!” Hanzo gasped and clutched to the bar holding them in place as they dropped down, the smile spreading along his face.

The car stopped and whirled on the track, turning them back around before rocketing them forward into the dark. The music swelled, becoming dark and ominous as they were jerked back and forth while tiny, evil voices whispered out from all around them.

Orange light burst forward as a loud deep roaring boom shook the car, and a demon popped out through the flames that surrounded them. McCree clutched tightly to the bar until his knuckles were white. His teeth clenched as a string of angry swear words burst forth as another demon popped out of nowhere, condemning them both to an eternity of agony.

They jolted sideways once again, and through a large black door and into the warm summer air, shocking the senses.

“I hope you have enjoyed your time Escaping the Stockades,” The cast member said jovially as he lifted the bar securing them both into place. Hanzo chuckled as he held onto either side of the car and pulled himself up and out. Below him, his legs felt like jelly as he warbled back out into the blistering hot sun.

“You are a sick man, Shimada,” Jesse knocked into his shoulder with his own. “Cackling like a madman the whole way through.” He pressed down on his hat, securing it firmly to his head as he shouldered their bag. 

“Cackling like a madman?” Hanzo turned. “It is a children’s ride, McCree; it is meant to incite laughter. What about you, screaming and clutching to the guardrail? I fear I will have to ride the Hellscream alone if you cannot handle a simple dark ride.”

A slight pink colored his cheeks as he looked away, knocking his shoulder again into Hanzo’s playfully. “Hey now, don’t you be teasin’ a man who just looked into hell like that. It’s rude.” 

Hanzo made a show of rolling his eyes dramatically as he ignored the slight tightening in his belly while looking up into the bashful face of the other. “My apologies, Mr. McCree. How can I ever make up for my shameful behavior.”

In nearly an instant, the reserved, almost coy look on the cowboy’s features melted into something devious. “Oh, I gotta few ideas.”

________

“What do you mean you ‘lost them’?” Fareeha scowled and crossed her arms over her chest as she gazed down at the smaller man. She thrust her shoulders back and stood up slightly straighter.

Genji, for his part, slumped his shoulders as he wiped the sweat off his bare forehead. The sun was intense, especially when not protected by his visor. He scowled up at the woman like a kicked puppy. “How was I to know it was my job to watch them at every moment?” He retorted. “They passed through the gate like ten minutes before we did. I can’t see through walls, Fa-Re-Ah.” He punctuated every syllable of her name as he smoothed out the map in his hands.

“I was in charge of tickets. You were in charge of-”

“I got it,” Genji grumbled. “Look, Hanzo will take a clear path; follow the line of attractions, but opposite the flow of traffic. His goal will be to see as much as he can with as little inconvenience to himself as possible.”

“Jesse would want to see the impressive stuff first. He would assume there would be longer lines as the day goes on.” She stated. “He would talk Hanzo into it. He has a way of talking your brother into bad decisions.”

Genji nodded in agreement. “Hanzo would take them the shortest path to that destination. So, dear future sister-in-law, what is McCree’s go-to ride?”

“Well, future brother-in-law, the Hellscream of course.” She pointed to the dark, black mountain on the map. “Hands down, that is the one thing that he will want to do here. He’s never been on a roller coaster, and this one is the best.”

Genji nodded and curtly folded up the map, stuffing it into his back pocket. He twined his arm into hers and smiled up at the dark haired woman. “Lead the way.”

_____________

“Officially, this is my favorite part of the day,” McCree raised the stein of beer to Hanzo before taking a long drink from the novelty tankard with the blue Blizzard World logo on the side. The foam sloshed over the side and dripped down the sides of his beard.

Hanzo chuckled and took a smaller drink from his own stein in front of him. It was the worst beer he ever had, hands down. Watered down and bitter, it tasted like it sat in a metal flask below the restaurant for months before being sprayed into his mug and sold to them for twenty dollars.

Thunderbrew Brewery sat in a large, overly blue building with a large griffin mounted on the roof. It was hard to miss in the crowd, especially after McCree’s whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. It took very little persuasion after that to get Hanzo to follow. He had been surprised to see how many taps they had, and an even bigger surprise to see the multitude of puns related to the names. McCree purchased something called Ethermead, which claimed to be an 'unknown potency,' though judging from the other man’s casual nature, it was not any more potent than what Hanzo had, something he chose for more the aesthetic than the taste.

“How’s the Dragon P.I.E.?” McCree smirked, wiping away his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It claimed to be ‘strangely potent, but I can tell you now, my dragons feel nothing,” Hanzo sat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“What’s wrong there, Honey Bee? Ain’t in the mood for watered-down generic beer?” McCree leaned forward with a sly grin, “Or is it that we are two men sharin’ beers at nine in the morning?”

Hanzo hummed and stroked his beard slowly. “No,” He stated definitively. “I am no stranger to partaking in my vices so early in the day, but really?” He looked down to the plate seated in front of McCree suspiciously.

Nuclear orange sauce dripped ominously from the pile of chicken wings in front of McCree, a small toothpick stuck into the top of the mound with a little cartoon drawing of Diablo, dancing upon his pile of messy cartoon wings. 

McCree lifted one tiny wing and waggled it, the dressing dripped down, staining his fingers in the process. “You say that as if ‘Spicy Hot Diablo Wings’ don’t just sound like the tastiest snack in all the realms.”

“As you said, it is nine in the morning, and you have already decided to strip your guts. I am just hoping to get to a single attraction now, and not the first aid tent.” Hanzo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the man in front of him maneuver the wing around, trying to get it to his mouth without dripping more of the overprocessed sauce.

“I will have you know,” McCree lifted an eyebrow, his whiskey eyes sparkled with amusement. “That I won a chile eating competition when I was runnin’ with Deadlock. Won me a whole fifty dollars when I ate a whole Carolina reaper pepper.” 

“Amazing,” Hanzo smiled.

“Only vomited for two hours after that. Went blind for nearly half a day too,” McCree winked. “Learned a valuable lesson that day, don’t fuckin’ touch your face after you eat something that has the word ‘reaper’ in its name.”

Hanzo could not help the roll of his eyes as he spread out the paper map in front of them and pulled out the black pen that he always kept with him. “We have limited time here-”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” McCree let out a long exhale the moment Hanzo’s pen touched the paper.

Instantly, Hanzo felt his hackles rise as he gritted his teeth tight. He clutched to the pen hard in his hand. It was ridiculous, he reasoned, a grown man plotting out a path to a silly child’s playground. The ink pooled onto the Blackrock Mountains, creating a true black lagoon around them. 

Hanzo’s quick eyes moved, peering at McCree and to the downtrodden look on the man’s face. McCree let out a heavy sigh and twirled the wing in his hand, before placing it back onto the stack and looking over to Hanzo. His eyebrows raised as he licked his fingers clean. “Where to first?”

McCree’s eye moved down, to the angry black mark on the paper. “Or-”

“Being here is foolish,” Hanzo started, slamming the pen down harder than he intended and winced at the display of anger. “We do not need to-”

“Whoa!” McCree reached over and snatched his hand, pressing it down into the plastic table. “What is this all about? We’re here to have fun, yeah?”

Hanzo scoffed and pulled away, looking down at the marks on the map, keeping his temper in check with another long, low breath. Genji had talked to him about this; speaking of his insecurities rather than fall back onto his bad habits. He gritted his teeth and tried again. “You didn’t have to make that comment when I started to plot a course through the park.” Hanzo felt his face heat at the words, and just how ridiculous it was to plot a course through a park designed for travelers. 

“Wh-” McCree started, then began to laugh. “Oh, Baby no,” He motioned to the pile of food in front of him. “I wasn’t talking about you!” He smiled. “These damn wings ain’t nothin’ but a mild buffalo sauce. He laughed and held one out for Hanzo. “It’s like baby’s first hot sauce.” 

Hanzo reluctantly took the wing from McCree’s fingers and frowned as the flavoring dripped warmly down his hand. 

McCree reached out and pulled the map over to him. “Obviously, we want to do the Hellscream, I mean, it is one of the main draws of the park. And if you like coasters, Fareeha always said the Deep Mines and the Reign of the Black King were musts. She is a bit of a daredevil though. It is the exact opposite way of where we are though.”

Hanzo licked the orange goo off his arm as it continues to drip before taking a bite. It tingled against his tongue. “Disappointing,” Hanzo agreed, reaching for another. “I saw a place near the Hellscream though called the ‘Badlands.’ There is a food icon with a skull and crossbones over it. We will get your food there since it threatens to kill us. Not this hot wings for children stuff,” He motioned to the plate as he picked up another to eat.

McCree laughed again. His voice was hearty and thick. It washed over Hanzo and curled up in Hanzo’s stomach as he went back to the map, pointing down. “How about here next? It’s close, plus a challenge.”

Hanzo smiled and lifted his beer, taking a long drink before smirking. “If you think you can handle it, Cowboy.”

_______

Fareeha leaned against the black railing as she licked her fingers clean of sugary confections of her morning snack. Her eyes slowly panned across the crowd of people before her exiting the Hellscream. “If we keep standing here, they are going to see us.” She turned and looked at the man next to her. "People are going to start noticing."

Genji hummed in response, pulling the brim of his hat further down his forehead. Sharp eyes gazed out before him, trained beyond the flow of the crowd. The corners of his lips turned down as a large family reunion passed, obstructing his view of whatever it was that caught his careful attention. It was the same look he wore while perched above a building, waiting for a target to appear.

“Genj?” Fareeha dropped her voice, leaning as casually against the railing as she could. Her eye turned towards where Genji's ninja gaze was, trying her best to see what it was that worried him. 

“Ten o’clock,” He said quietly, his lips not moving. “Blue ball cap, green track pants. Face buried in a map.”

Fareeha shifted, stretching his arms overhead as she gazed over to Genji’s left. Beneath the shade of the trees, she saw the man Genji spoke of, his face turned down into the map in his hands, giving her only a view of the dirty blue ball cap. The brim was turned down, further obscuring him from view.

“He’s been standing there as long as we have,” He stated. “Longer even. He isn’t moving, isn’t looking up, even as people exit the ride. He is not waiting for a person. He is waiting.”

“For what?” Fareeha asked. 

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Genji asked. “Come on, let’s move before he gets suspicious of us.” He turned and took her arm, calmly. “We can observe from elsewhere.” He moved them swiftly, flowing with the crowd of people, past the man who still stood stock still — the man who did not shift. He did not glance up as people passed. He stood ramrod still, like a watchdog waiting for an order.

Fareeha flexed her grip on Genji's arm, holding fast as worry spread through her.

_________

“If I knew it would be this bleedin’ hot, I would’ve brought my trunks,” McCree grumbled and wiped the back of his neck free from the sweat. “Ya think they will admit us as we are? There’s gotta be a shop nearby.” 

Hanzo chuckled and shook his head, “You sweat more than any man I have ever met. I thought you grew up in a desert, Cowman.”

McCree scowled over at him, obviously enjoying playful jab. “Hey now, the American southwest is a dry heat — a desert. California ain’t no desert last I checked, sweetcheeks, we are dealing with a hundred and fifty percent humidity. I can feel it in my balls it’s like a swamp in there.”

Hanzo burst out laughing. “Ridiculous.” He shook his head as the man next to him made a show of fanning his face with his hat while making more obnoxious whistling and grunting noises to show his discomfort. “And I am not going to spend an inflated amount of money of novelty swimwear so that you can ride the lazy river for hours.”

“Fine then, Mr. Hot-shot,” McCree nudged him hard with his shoulder. “You find somewhere out of the sun we can cool off then.”

Hanzo laughed and circled his arm around McCree’s and pulled, delighted with how smoothly the other man bowed to his will and drew him towards the glistening gold pyramid of ‘The Nexus Experience.’ He had expected another ride, but found a walking tour of events, going over the history of the Protoss and their quest to reclaim their homeworld, all with a very family-friendly spin on the whole thing. At the end was yet another little gift shop, filled with overpriced furnishings and toys.

“Scan your badge and earn a prize!” The announcer, stood tall on a large box, flagging people to near the giant space marine near him, a gruff looking blond man in oversized blue armor. Above them was a large air return vent, allowing the unfortunate worker to stand under a constant blast of cold air to keep him from overheating.

McCree’s arm laced again into Hanzo’s and pulled him near. “If I didn’t know better, I would swear they raided Reinhardt’s armory for that.”

“Unlikely. I doubt that scrawny man within could wear a full crusader armor for more than ten minutes before passing out from the shear stress of wearing it. Besides, Reinhardt fills out his armor. I prefer a man that looks good in what he wears.”

McCree let out a long, low whistle as he propelled Hanzo forward. “The Great Shimada heir reveals he has a type.”

“I have most certainly not,” Hanzo scoffed. “I just enjoy a man that fills his role admirably well.”

“Never second best,” McCree stared straight forward, his lips downturned. A perfect imitation of the trademarked Shimada scowl.

“Is that not what I always deserve, the best?” Hanzo smiled as they neared the space marine. 

Jesse held out the tickets while smiling over at Hanzo, his gaze never leaving him. “Can’t say I can argue with that, I’ll just have to try harder to live up to that then, husband.”

Hanzo felt the flush creep up his cheeks as McCree turned to the park worker. They were working. He had to remind himself. Sure, it was not a real mission, it was something Genji concocted in the middle of the night as another way to shame and embarrass him, but it was nothing more than work here. McCree was only cordial. He was playing a role given to him. 

It was nothing more.

“Congratulations!” The worker’s sharp, cheerful tone pulled Hanzo out of his melancholy state. “You are qualified to enter our Space Marine Challenge,” The worker continued.

“Oh no,” McCree’s cheeks burned red as all around him, people began to turn and stare at the Space Marine stepped one hulking foot forward. It crashed heavily on the floor, giving Hanzo the impression that it was not just another foam suit for looks, but that Blizzard had purchased an actual crusader’s armor and repainted it to be a set piece.

The marine cleared his throat, his voice booming louder than even Reinhardt with an amplification unit dressed somewhere within, pulling more tourist’s attention to the two men standing in front of the hulking mass. “Gentlemen, for many years the Terran-” His voice prattled on, expounding the tale of the Terran struggles in the universe while the heavy orchestral swell of music rose from behind him, signaling that with one scan of their card. McCree and Hanzo were no longer just tourists, but now they were a part of the show. 

Hanzo’s eyes darted to the multitude of cell phones raised to take video of the event. He raised his hand, trying to block himself from view, unsure if he was trying to protect his identity or his ego.

“Well, Gentlemen, do you agree?” The marine concluded with a whoosh of a fog machine, spilling deliciously cold air against their feet. 

McCree nodded dumbly; his mouth hung open as the red of his cheeks swelled. “Sure,” His voice came out almost a squeak.

With the small acknowledgment, another cast member swooped out of the shadows, dressed in a blue polo and khakis he held out a clipboard with paperwork on it, forcing it into both their hands as he maneuvered them away for the next person to step up and claim their Terran prize. 

The new cast member spoke fast, thrusting a pen into McCree’s hand as he spoke, “Blizzard hereby decrees no liability for any injuries sustained while undertaking the Terran Challenge-” His lips moved fast, leaving Hanzo to nod along as the man explained legality of the challenge as he led them down the back stairs and into the arcade. A group had followed behind them, suddenly seeing McCree and himself as another attraction in the park, much to Hanzo’s chagrin. He had no choice but to comply and nod along, realizing that the people behind him had cameras on them, and it would be in poor taste to yell at the workers. It would be especially troublesome when video evidence of his temper leaked online.

McCree held tight to his hand, like a vice. 

Hanzo leaned in. “My expectation is that this is not random. We have been set up.”

“This smells of Fareeha,” Jesse grumbled. “Damn it all to hell, we can’t just run away, can we?”

“No,” Hanzo sighed as the doors before them wooshed open and the loud beeps and whirls of the arcade invaded their senses. “We must endure.”

________

In his mind, Genji could hear his brother’s biting tone, calling him a fool for disregarding the years of training the Shimada clan imposed on them both. It was only for a moment that he dropped his guard and looked away from the target. He had carelessly looked back to Fareeha, checking to make sure his partner was still trailing behind him. That was all it took for the stoic operative they had been hunting to disappear entirely from view. 

It took only one other second of complete idiocy to get ambushed. 

Now they were on the run, weaving between kiosks and vendors, around the mobs of families gathered outside of exciting attractions as the Talon operatives closed in. It has started with one, dressed in black and calmly stalking towards them from the front, followed by two more, flanking them from the sides.

He wished then he had not left his weapons back on the base. He wished that Fareeha had her power armor as well and could jettison them away from the danger.

Genji reached out and snatched Fareeha’s arm in his iron grasp and yanked her sideways into an overflowing gift shop, away from the sight line of their pursuer. He swam between the multitudes of bodies, dragging her further and further into the safety of the crowd. His artificial heart pounded away at a smooth rhythm, never raising above a natural beat even though his brain was in full fight-or-flight mode. Even after all these years, it was still the strangest feeling.

Fareeha gripped onto him tighter, her eyes going back behind her, searching for the black forms that followed. They would be back there, lost in the throng of people and just walking towards them, unhurried. 

Genji pulled her aside and through a stage door, propped open with a small brown box. He kicked the doorstop aside and slammed the door shut behind them, trapping them in a darkened room.

His breath evened, unlike the woman next to him who huffed with sweat dripping down the sides of her face. He cracked the door an inch and looked back. Nothing but the smiling faces of carefree families on vacation met him.

“How-” Fareeha pressed her hand to her chest and looked over to him. She slid down the length of the wall and sat, taking a moment’s reprieve to rest.

He shrugged and kept watch. Nothing.

“We need to get McCree. Warn him about what is going on,” Fareeha’s hand moved to her hip in search of a firearm that did not exist. His own hands itched for his blade. His shuriken. Anything.

Genji’s eye moved over to her, momentarily assessing the damage. Fareeha looked unharmed, besides the sprint through the various lands of Blizzard World. “We should,” He agreed. “Once the coast clears, we will get out of here and warn McCree-”

“Warn him?” A cold voice chuckled, cutting him off. It boomed loudly from all around them as if it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Genji’s blood turned to ice in his veins as that smokey voice wafted over them. Disembodied. 

Out of the shadows, a dark figured emerged, like a villain from a storybook. The bone-white mask glowed eerily in the artificial light of the back room. The figure tilted his head, the black eyes locked on the pair as the figure sauntered closer, “Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?”

The Reaper laughed, dry and cracked. He advanced.

_________

“Babe!” Jesse's eyes boggled as he watched the small girl with the blonde braids bob by them with the overstuffed Murloc in her arms and a wide, toothless smile on her face.

Without thinking, he reached out and snatching Hanzo’s arm as the girl passed, pointing at her as his jaw hung open and the stars shone in his whiskey-colored eyes, repeating the word over and over, each time with more awe and enthusiasm. He gripped tight .“Babe!” 

The Murloc in her arms gave a short, breathy squeak with every hopping step she took, its tiny arms flailing free. Behind her, a set of proud parents followed, holding onto a silver and gold balloon proclaiming that she was “celebrating my big day in a big way!”

Hanzo chuckled and patted Jesse's arm tenderly as he squeezed tighter and pulled Hanzo close to him. “That is so fuckin’ cute,” Jesse up at Hanzo, his lopsided grin widening into a full affectionate smile. “Baby Murloc Hanzo! A fuckin’. Baby. Murloc.” He punctuated every word he said with a slight shake to the other man’s body.

“I see it, Jesse,” Hanzo couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, watching as the man next to him let out the most undignified noise as he saw more of the baby Murlocs hanging behind the counter of the arcade, proudly proclaiming only a thousand tickets for the honor of taking one home. He smirked and leaned in closer to the other man. “A thousand tickets should be child’s play for men like us.”

A light rosy blush spread across the top of McCree’s nose as he cleared his throat, looking away from the other man. “Well now, are you promising you are gonna win me a prize.”

“Well, it is our special day, we should be celebrating it a special way,” Hanzo watched as the man slowly gasped. He pulled away as they neared the man operating the ticket booth, another cast member dressed in an audacious brown robe that draped over himself. 

Slowly, the man lowered the hook from his head with all the grace of an actor, pausing for dramatic effect. “Welcome,” He boomed, his miked voice resonating through the ticketing station. “Who art thou?”

“Sir,” The cast member that led them down to the arcades bowed low and relevance to the other. “Wandering adventurers. They have appeared here to take part in the great quest.” After his introduction, the cast member turned and headed back to his post, not listening, or caring, to what Hanzo and Jesse had to say anymore.

Hanzo closed his eyes to keep them from rolling into the back of his skull. “And what is our quest, noble sir?” Hanzo asked, deciding it in his best interest to play along. 

“Why, to rid the land of the treacherous Murlok,” The druid cast member bobbed and welcomed them over. “And, since you good sirs are celebrating your big day in a big way-” Again, Hanzo had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, reminding himself that this was a man tasked with a job to perform, albeit, a ridiculous, childish job, but something to be respected nonetheless. “You have the chance of earning the key of the realm.”

“And what, good sir,” McCree interjected, placing a hand above his heart as he gallantly removed his hat and dipped into a deep bow. “Is the key of the realm?” He looked over to Hanzo and smiled widely. 

“Why, the biggest prize in all the realm of Azeroth.”

Hanzo’s ears burned. Suddenly, this task Genji set them upon did not feel so childish. “The biggest?”

“Your task, sirs, is to rid the land of the treacherous-”

“Wait, the biggest?” Hanzo held up a hand as he interrupted the cast member at work. “What does that mean, the biggest?” 

“Uh,” The druid turned and looked around, obviously not used to people interrupting his speech. “You-your task-”

“Hold up now,” The smile never left McCree’s face as he adjusted the hat back on his head. Slowly he looped his thumbs through his belt buckle and leaned heavily on his right leg. “The gentleman asked a question, and I reckon I want to know the answer.”

“Uh,” The worker- a child no older than twenty by Hanzo’s recollection- began to sweat as he looked between the two men. He swallowed heavily while his lips moved quickly, obviously trying to remember the lines to his scripted show. “Look, man, I am just standing in for Greg. I don’t normally-”

“The prize,” Hanzo stated firmly. “What is it?”

“Collect a thousand Murloc eyes in the time limit, and you get a free night in the presidential suite, plus a complimentary dinner and a free one-day pass back into the park.” The man rambled out quickly and released a breath. “And...and the baby Murloc is worth a thousand Murloc eyes since you...would be asking me that next.” The boy seemed to be shaking as he took half a step back, away from the two men. 

“So how do we earn these here Murloc eyes?” McCree smiled jovially and stepped back, looking around. “Does that mean tickets cause I’d wager we could get a thousand tickets between us.”

The cast member nodded wildly. “Yes, sir.”

“Well all right then, Han, what do you say we go win us some tickets?”

_______

“Tighter,” the specter growled from behind the bone-white mask.

Genji grunted loudly and attempted to pull his arm away from the goon dressed like an elf, scowling deeply as the ropes twined tighter around his limbs soundlessly. Genji snarled, or at least attempted to snarl, around the white cloth stuffed into his mouth and knotted at the back of his head. 

Once satisfied that both he and Fareeha were secure, the elf stepped back and looked to the Reaper for further instructions. A black-taloned hand waved them off as he stepped further into the light and towered over the pair, a signal for the Talon operatives to leave. 

The Reaper loomed over them until the metal door crashed shut. Genji heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock. Then, they were alone. 

“Well well,” He clicked his tongue and slowly circled them, speaking slow and deliberate, a message to them both that he could take his time. “Look what the space gorilla dragged in. Hello there, traitor.” He stopped in front of Genji and laced his arms behind his back. He stood at attention, just like Reyes had done all those years before in that small Japanese interrogation room. 

Genji muffled a greeting back at him, not giving the Reaper the satisfaction of seeing him sweat.

“Mmm...Can’t talk? Too bad.” He stepped to the side and was in front of Fareeha. “I would comment how much it was you looked like your mother now, but we both know that’s a lie." He tapped a claw against his eye, "How is the old bird anyway? I hear she writes, which is surprising for a dead woman.”

“Taunt me all you like, Reyes. I won’t give in,” Fareeha’s voice was soft but firm. Just like Ana. 

The Reaper growled and stomped away. “Just like your mother too, sticking her nose where it is not wanted or needed. I don’t plan on harming you.” 

“Surprising,” Fareeha growled. She pulled hard on her restraints, and the chair squeaked against the floor. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.

“Just tell me where the others are,” The Reaper growled. “Who else from Overwatch is here? The monkey isn’t foolish enough to send Humpus and Bumpus out alone without any backup.”

“I don’t know-”

Reaper kicked over a stray chair and snarled loudly, causing Fareeha to snap back, eyes wide with fright. Genji sat placid, watching the scene play out. 

Same old techniques, he hummed in amusement. Reyes-Reaper- whatever he wanted to be called had not changed that much.

Besides the mass murder bits.

The Reaper moved over to Genji and hooked a talon under the gag and listened as the fabric slowly tore. “Who else is here, Cyborg? We didn’t find your earpieces. Your cellphones look civilian even.” Not Genji. Not even Shimada. Just Cyborg. “Where is the ingrate?” The Reaper growled out the words, and they rotted in the air. Too angry. Too….too dramatic.

Genji smirked. His biggest, shit-eatingest grin he could muster as he looked at the phantom standing over them both “Who says we are here undercover? Maybe we wanted Talon to catch us. Maybe we are here to distract you.” 

______

Jesse gave a long, low whistle and draped an arm over Hanzo’s shoulder as he looked out at the vast array of games laid out before them. Skeeball was a must, they decided. Easy access to tickets with the shortest return. Only, now all of the machines were filled. They must not have been the only ones celebrating. They had agreed to stay away from the wild gambles, the games that dropped coin at random and required chance. It was too risky a gambit.

Games of skill, Hanzo stated. Games they could win.

“Gentlemen,” The cloaked cast member set a black box onto the counter in front of him, as if it were a prized possession. He seemed calmer now behind the safety of the prize booth. “To win the grand prize, you must earn all one thousand tickets in the next hour. In no way can anyone else help you along with your quest. No begging for tickets, no taking them from other machines. If you appear to be cheating, it is a forfeit of the game, and all tickets won.” 

Jesse’s eye twinkled as he looked up at the array of toys and figurines behind the desk. “Got it,” He stated absentmindedly.

“Jesse,” Hanzo warned.

“No cheating. Got it. We win this all honorable. Like men of integrity.” He nodded once and snatched up the black box. “When does this thingy start to count down?” He asked.

“The moment you pick it up, sir. That is a timer. It will buzz the moment your hour is up and lock up any machine you are near. It will also calculate out the number of tickets won by the both of you. An amazing, magical, piece of technology, wouldn't you say? Congratulations again on your honeymoon and have a pleasant stay at Blizzard World.” 

Jesse scowled as Hanzo pulled him away. “Did’ja hear that, Baby? That man knew I would pick it up and start runnin’ out our clock before-”

“We settle that later,” Hanzo stated cooly, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Jesse’s bicep as he led him inside the arcade proper. He smiled at the sound of it all, the whizzing and pinging of machines, the cap guns popping loudly all around, the clacking of skee balls against wood. His eyes roamed the blue and orange arcade, watching as the patrons ran from game to game. It reminded him of home. “We can skip the arcade boxes. They don’t produce tickets.” Hanzo stated over the loud chiming of a machine that hit ‘Jackpot.’

“Gonna be honest with ya, Darlin,” Jesse smiled and patted his hand. “Last ‘arcade’ I went to, ya weren’t allowed in if you were under 21. And I didn’t win tickets.”

“A gambling man, I see,” Hanzo teased. “A maverick at poker?”

“An artist at poker,” Jesse countered. “Just not allowed back into any rooms in Vegas, if you catch my drift.”

“Pick a game, Maverick. Let’s see if that skill transcends to games a child can play.” Hanzo chuckled and hefted up the small purple velvet bag that held the coins for the machines. “What shall we do when we each win a thousand tickets?” Hanzo’s voice came out as a playful purr, like a cat that just caught a canary in its jaws. 

Jesse swallowed as his mouth went dry. That dark look in Hanzo’s eye. He had seen it before, from a distance on the battlefield. That coy, knowing look of a man who knew he was superior to his enemies. He had seen it up close in training when the man would pin him down to the mat and make him practically beg for release. That sheer animalistic hunger that lingered behind Hanzo’s brooding gaze.

Hanzo quipped an eyebrow, expecting an answer from Jesse. “Do you think they would let us?”

“Take two honeymoon suites, two full dinners and two couples passes to Blizzney World?” He laughed and shook his head. “My guess is they would find a way to call us cheaters.”

“Five hundred tickets a piece seems too easy,” Hanzo let out a sigh and tightened his grip on Jesse’s arm. His gaze traveled across the arcade again, watching each machine. They did not need to move. Leaving one game and waiting for another to open up would waste precious seconds. They needed something sustainable. Something that they both could play. Something that took talent.

His eye stopped on the machines, nearly hidden in the back and away from the more profitable arcade games. Hanzo smiled wickedly and intertwined his fingers with Jesse’s. He pulled him along, through the crowds of people to the back of the arcade where two machines stood shoulder to shoulder with one another. The sign above sported an old fashion cowboy in a red flannel shirt and fringed chaps while proudly proclaiming “Bullseye!”

“What do you say, Gunslinger?” Hanzo smirked. “Think you can handle it?”

“Well now,” Jesse slowly removed the hat from his head and rolled his fingers through his hair. “Bullseye gives ya’ twenty tickets a pop,” He lifted the gun and inspected the cabinet. “Six shots for a round? Well then, that would be roughly...hundred, hundred twenty tickets easy. What’daya say, Honey, think I can do it all on my own?” 

Jesse coyly took a gold token out of the purse and slipped it into the coin box. Lights and sounds whizzed on as the cowboy above the machine proudly proclaimed ‘Howdy.’ 

Hanzo laughed and lifted his electronic revolver. “Not a chance in your life, Cowboy. I’m going to win you the biggest, ugliest stuffed animal in this place.”

_______

Genji grunted and felt the sweat roll down the side of his face. For now, the Reaper had left them. It was another of Reyes’ tactics; give a thinly veiled threat of bodily harm, then leave to let them stew in their fear.

Genji groaned and arched his head back. “You okay, Reeha?” He whispered.

She nodded. “What is the purpose of this?” She whispered back. “Why is he just holding us here?”

“He’s trying to figure out what we know,” He stated. 

“Obviously,” Fareeha hissed back. “I am not a child, Genji, I understand advanced interrogation techniques. Why is he holding back?”

“He heard us talking about McCree, obviously” Genji shifted his wrist, attempting to deploy the weaponry hidden inside his forearm. Instead, the mechanism clicked, his arms were secured too tightly to allow proper deployment. Genji cursed his poor luck and began to rub the soft nylon against the raised carbon fiber of his arm until it caught. He twisted, slowly fraying the soft material. “Maybe he wants to settle a score?”

“What score?” Fareeha hissed out again. “I was there when McCree left! He did it by the books. He was discharged and given a pension! Reyes is the one that discharged him!”

Genji shrugged. To be fair, after the fall of Overwatch, when everything went tits up, McCree had been caught in the crossfire of the fallout. With the two leaders of Overwatch dead in the ruble, and the third in command dead in the desert, shot by a terrorist, blame rained down from the sky like shit and landed on anyone with any sorted past. As Reye’s second in command and successor, McCree's shitstorm was a hurricane. His former affiliation with a notorious gun-running gang only further complicated the fact that McCree was, in fact, a villain. “Reyes changed after McCree left-”

“Reyes and Morrison both changed before McCree left,” She countered. “We were all at my mother’s funeral. It wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. And when did Reyes ever just leave an interrogation room without a guard?”

The rope around Genji's wrist snapped. The bindings unfurled easily. Genji frowned and rubbed his wrists before he finished untying himself from the metal chair. “The better question is; what does Talon want with a fucking amusement park?”

He flicked his wrist, now able to activate the weaponry he had built into his body. Reyes had done a poor job with tying him down. It almost felt too easy. 

Shuriken in his hand, he knelt behind Fareeha’s chair and began to saw at the ropes around her wrists. “How am I to know Talon’s motivations? I grew up in a family that ran drugs and weapons, not an international terrorist group hell-bent on creating a new world order.”

“Really Shimada? You have no background in terrorism?”

Genji stopped as the words echoed around them as a black, inky fog rolled under the door and took shape. He stood quick, throwing the two remaining shuriken at the figure and watched as they passed through the smoke and clattered uselessly to the floor.

“Why would you go and do a thing like that,” The Reaper tsked as he solidified, rubbing a hand against his chest as if they pierced his skin. “Here I am, being kind-”

“Kind?!” Fareeha pulled on the frayed ropes until they snapped and she shot up, out of her seat. “Do you think it is kind to kill innocent families? Kind to attack-”

The Reaper raised his hand, motioning for her to stop as his other reached up and slowly removed the bone-white mask. “Who sent you?” He asked, a weariness to his graveling voice.

“We came here on vacation to see the-”

“Cut the bullcrap, Shimada,” Reyes snapped, his dark red and black eyes piercing. “I know the both of you, and neither of you are anything resembling a family.”

“Things change,” Fareeha countered. “Sometimes you have to find a new family when your old one disappoints you.”

“Was it Morrison?”

“No,” Genji’s hands remained raised as he looked the black-clad figure in front of him over, drinking in the sight of Gabriel Reyes in his new form. Paler, more deathly grey than he remembered, but he still carried that tired scowl of a man who just wanted rest. “Jesse. We are here because of Jesse.” 

“Genji!” Fareeha scolded.

Slowly, he dropped his hands and stood up straight. “Reeha and I were setting him up on a date, and we were tagging along to make sure the big idiot didn’t screw it up.

Gabriel blinked. Twice. His mouth hung open, slightly ajar as he looked between the pair. At their clothes, the items they carried with them. “A date?” He repeated slowly, almost as if he did not believe what they had to say.

“With my,” Genji trailed off. He let out a deep sigh and turned his eyes upward. “With my brother.” 

The Reaper started to laugh, something low and guttural that turned Genji’s blood to ice in his veins. “Are you telling me Jesse-Goddamned- McCree is on an honest-to-god romantic liaison that you concocted with your brother?”

Genji nodded.

“The brother that murdered you?”

Again he nodded.

“Oooooh,” A wicked smile crossed over the Reaper’s calculating face. “This is rich.”

_______

“Bullseye,” The mechanical cowboy on top of the machine cried out as the last shot rang out. The device jeered and flashed as the tickets rolled out and pooled onto the floor. Jesse took a step back and rolled the gun on his finger before plowing at the tip. 

The game was easy enough, a simple bullseye target of red and white rings. The challenge came after every shot. The buzzer would sound, the lights would flash, and the electronic bullseye would warp and shift, transforming into some other popcap game with moving targets and a steep incline on difficulty.

Not that it was hard for Jesse to shift focus, he needed to take a breath and watch the shift before firing. The whole first coin was wasted when he “fanned the hammer” and only ended with six tickets total.

The lightweight, plastic gun wasn’t as precise as an actual piece of hardware, but then again, Jesse was playing with a toy. There were no projectiles, just an invisible laser beam that calculated where it landed on the board whenever you pulled the trigger. He attempted to explain the concept to Hanzo, a weak attempt to impress the archer only to have him throw it back in his face.

“So, it’s like Duck Hunt,” Hanzo shrugged as the timer on his game counted down. Hanzo was slower with his shots, watching and waiting to pull the trigger and land six perfect shots. “Hardly impressive if it is technology from almost a hundred years ago.”

“So much for impressing you,” Jesse smirked and inserted another coin into the machine. “Here I am, doin’ my best and tryin’ to show off all the big brains I have and you go and-” He fired six shots in quick succession, landing a perfect score each time. “Fuckin’ Duck Hunt. I’ll show you a duck hunt.”

“Bonus Round,” The game proclaimed loudly and began a countdown as the bullseye dissolved into what looked like an open field.

Hanzo laughed and looked over, watching as the first pixelated, digital fowl rose up from the bushes. McCree stood, dumbfounded as he watched it almost leave the screen before he raised the revolver in his hand and fired. The duck dropped out of the sky, and points flashed on the screen. There was no obnoxious laughing dog though.

“Not. A word.” Jesse scowled and held up a finger. 

Hanzo laughed again and continued. “I did not say a thing. I am merely attempting to assess how many tickets we have, versus how many minutes we have left.”

“I’ve played, oh, three or four rounds by now,” He shrugged. “Don’t know how I triggered this bonus round, but I’m sure that is worth at least another five or so tickets. Should put us almost halfway there by myself. Damn timing is slow as shit in a snowstorm though. How bought you?”

“I told you, Cowboy, I am planning on getting you that toy. I am leaving the grand prize in your capable hands.” Hanzo looked down at the black box perched between them and ran his hand over the top. 

“Twenty minutes remaining. Thank you for celebrating all your meaningful events at Blizzard World,” The computer dinged.

“Now you are working under pressure, McCree,” Hanzo smirked. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“At this rate, I bet I can win you a nice steak dinner too. Maybe even a new car,” He lined himself up and fired each time, hitting mark after mark until the game exploded in light and song again. 

“Oh no, you concentrate on that grand prize. Tonight, you are going to see me in that private hot tub with a nice bottle of red wine.”

The machine buzzed angrily as Jesse misfired, his shot grazing against the grass and nowhere near the waterfowl. The bonus round ended and the game returned to its programmed music and lights. Jesse’s face turned a wicked shade of pink. “Y-Yes sir,” He nodded. 

Around them a crowd began to form, cheering them on with each coin inserted into the slot as ticket poured out, draping over the floor around their feet. Blast after blast, the audience grew, chanting their approval of the two men landing bullseye after bullseye. 

“I am the quickest draw in the land. I am a sharp-shootin', rootin-tootin’ cowboy in this joint,” Jesse stole a glance to the man next to him.

Hanzo smirked back. “Get me that hot tub in record time and maybe I might just let you join.”

The gun misfired again, breaking the combo as Jesse sputtered again, frazzled and unguarded.

Hanzo just smiled.

_______

Gabriel tilted his head to the side. It was almost as if someone was at his ear, whispering secrets to him. Slowly, his eyes closed and he nodded in understanding. “Sit down, both of you. They are coming back.”

In an instant, the mask was once again over his scarred face. Gabriel's body dissolved into that liquid smoke as he shot across the room, black inky tendrils crawling up the legs of the chairs and grabbed both Genji and Fareeha, shoving them back into the metal chairs just as the door opened.

The goon dressed as an elf reappeared, his face ashen as he entered. His eyes were downcast, afraid to even look at the apparition in front of him. “Sir-” he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

The Reaper turned and snarled like a mad dog, “What did I tell you about interrupting my interrogation?” 

To his credit, the Talon agent shrank back in alarm, his hand gripped the doorknob tight. “News, sir-” He tried again. “Greg spotted another Overwatch agent by the arcade and-”

“And what is Greg doing by the arcades?” Slowly, Reaper stood to his full height. His hands twitched at his sides. “We have no business on that side of the facility.”

Genji quirked an eyebrow. Greg. The Talon terrorist, Greg. He repressed a laugh.

“Greg was scheduled to work the arcades today, sir. You told us to keep a low profile and-”

“And what?” Reaper snarled.

“And Greg wants to know if we should take the killing shot. He needs confirmation before we eliminate McCree and the other man.”

Genji’s heart began to race wildly as his eyes moved to the wraith that loomed above him. He could attempt an escape. One swift hit from the butt of his hand against the man’s jaw should immobilize him-”

“Enough!” The Reaper snarled again. Smoke began to unfurl under his long dark trench coat, and long tendrils of black began to ooze their way across the floor, over Genji and Fareeha’s feet, cold and dry to the touch. “There will be no bloodshed, do you understand me? The moment you buffoons make our presence here known, we must evacuate.” He seemed to float as he moved toward the agent. “Quit lollygagging around and get Greg back here. Now.” His order was final.

The Talon agent nodded. “Sir,” He turned and fled back to the door, grabbing the knob and flinging it open.

“Wait,” Each syllable of the word dragged out. It crept up each of their spines and raised the small hairs on the back of necks. “McCree is content to play games. He has no observation of our movements.” The Reaper’s voice lowered. His fingers made a quiet ‘tink tink tink’ as he drummed them slowly against Genji’s shoulder as if lost in thought.

The elf stopped, his eyes wide as he watched his commander, silent and unmoving.

“Give him no cause to think that there is anything amiss here at Blizzard World,” He spat out the name with disdain as if the mere words left a terrible taste in his mouth. “Give him whatever he desires. Make sure his day is nothing but," he paused. "Pleasant.”

“Yes sir,” The elf nodded wildly. “I will-I’ll get Sombra on that right away, sir.” He turned and fled, slamming the door behind him.

The Reaper once again returned his attention to Genji and Fareeha. “Now, what to do with you two meddling kids.”

_______

Nervous eyes watched the clock as more and more onlookers wandered into the arcade. News had quickly spread about the honeymooning couple dominating the ‘Key of Azeroth’ challenge. Social media had exploded with a wave of video and photos showcasing the pair as if they were Blizzard World royalty.

The challenge was meant to be difficult, with the black timing box raising the difficulty of any game slowly as time drew on. Most people gave up after twenty minutes, deciding to cash in their tickets for a simpler prize, like a romantic dinner for two or fast passes to all the high-level rides. But not these two.

For their part, the men had not wavered in their resolve. Forty-five minutes in, and the sheer volume of paper tickets that scattered across the floor beneath them far outnumbered what was needed for the challenge. It was like the spike in difficulty only spurred them on.

And neither seemed to care at all about the attention. The pair smiled at one another and quipped at each other’s expense. Their antics entertained the masses and made the workers sweat. 

Management was not as amused. 

“What is going on?” A woman in a black suit hissed as she stepped inside the arcade. She moved quickly behind the prize counter, pulling aside one of the arcade workers. "Tell me everything."

________

Jesse gave out a loud whoop as the machine flickered and buzzed again, the new high score flashing wildly on the digital screen. A thunderous explosion of applause broke out among the crowd. Jesse pivoted towards them. Both hands held high as he swooped down into a deep bow for their amusement. “Ma always said I was a sharp-shootin' sonofabitch.”

“Braggart,” Hanzo scoffed, a flirting smile played on his lips as he twirled the toy gun on his finger. He waited for Jesse’s gaze to be on him once again before he lined up and scored another perfectly calculated bullseye.

His arcade cabinet whirred and buzzed. It was not as loudly as Jesse’s, but then again, he was not showboating for an audience gathered around them like the pair were some old fashioned wild west show.

“Like you ain’t getting off on that sound,” Jesse motioned to the crowd around them before turning back to his machine and inserting the next coin. He waved his hand over the black box.

“Ten minutes remaining. Good luck! You have almost made it!” 

Jesse frowned slightly at the remark, and at the wave of orange tickets flooded at their feet. Almost made it sounded an awful lot like they hadn’t made it.

“Cease, McCree,” Hanzo smiled as he landed another shot. “It is a pre-programmed response. It has not been tracking our actual tickets.”

“See, I was under the impression that’s exactly what that thing was supposed to do,” He squared his shoulders and squeezed the trigger. Another raucousness burst of noise swelled from the machine, then died.

The lights dimmed as the small cowboy on top of the bullseye machine grew dim. 

“What the fu-” Hanzo exclaimed. Jesse looked over to see his machine, equally as dark. 

“Gentlemen,” A woman stepped through the crowd as the crowd dispersed, the show finally over. She wore a crisp, black suit. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun as she folded his hands in front of her body. “Blizzard World extends its apologies, but it appears there has been a malfunction in the machines.”

“A malfunction my foot,” Jesse swore, tearing his hat off his head and throwing it to the floor. “You've been cheatin’ us of a full ten minutes!”

Hanzo stood still. He frowned slightly as his dark gaze roamed over the woman. “No, Jesse. She means that the malfunction is us. She is here to say we have been disqualified from earning our hard-earned prize.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned.

For her part, the woman in black did not seem to take joy in her job. “It appears our arcade game has been malfunctioning the entire challenge. As compensation-”

Jesse held up a finger and stepped forward, his neck going red under his intense gaze. “Your next words better be along the lines of you givin’ us what we rightfully earned and you walkin’ away now.”

Hanzo reached up and touched his arm gently. “Jesse,” His voice was soft, but his grip was full of warning. He would do best not to get caught yelling at a worker. Worse yet would be for social media to get ahold of footage of a former Overwatch operative berating a manager of a theme park.

Jesse took a slow breath and settled himself. “We earned it fair and square by followin’ your damn rules.”

The manager looked down at the sea of tickets surrounding them and frowned deeper. “Gentlemen, I will give you the benefit of the doubt-”

“The benefit of the-” Jesse cut himself off as he turned and walked back towards the arcade machines, pursing his lips together hard as his hands clenched tight at his sides.

The manager did not seem deterred and continued “And say that you both spent all of your tokens on ‘Bullseye’ and scored a collective score of sixty per round.”

“Sixty per round?” Jesse kicked at the pile of tickets at his feet. “Does this look like six hundred tickets? Fuck no! Check the cameras! Check any of the people who were here. I was hittin’ the mark each and every-”

“Unacceptable,” Hanzo stood firm. “Here is my rebuttal: We will take the tickets that we have fairly earned now and we will forfeit the last ten minutes of the competition. You will honor what we have and let us claim any prize that we have rightfully earned. You will then let us go to enjoy the rest of our short time here at your establishment without us calling the press to inform them about your shady business practices and dealings. Are we understood?”

The woman stood, her mouth slightly agape as she nodded slowly. “Let me...speak to my superiors. I am sure an arrangement can be made.”

________

“Why are you letting us go?” Fareeha grunted as she rubbed her raw wrists, her watchful eyes remained on the phantom that stood before her.

The Reaper’s shoulder’s slumped as he rubbed uneasily at his temple as if fending off a consistent headache. He turned a tired black eye to the woman seated before him and his gaze glossed over as if he pere picturing her as she was before; that small, strong-willed girl that easily wrapped all of the strike team around her little finger, manipulating them all with nothing more than her innate charm. He smiled and looked away. “Feeling nostalgic, I guess.”

“You know we are going to stop you now, Boss,” Genji stated.

The Reaper chuckled and waved him off. “By the time you return with your handy gang of brave heroes, my crew will be long gone. But you know this already.” He held up a hand, effectively cutting off Genji’s next round of questions as he tossed back their things. “We are not here to harm anyone. Our….investors are not looking to make themselves into child killers. Warmongers and unethical, yes, but you cannot recover from the image of killing small children. We are not complete monsters.”

“So what-” Fareeha started. 

The Reaper interrupted her. “Simple embezzlement. Do you expect a multinational global conglomerate like Blizzard not to find less than ethical investors? How else do you think they toppled the empire of Disney?” There, on his scarred, gray face was that look, the same one Gabriel Reyes always wore when he knew he had the upper hand. He turned back to them both. “It seems your brothers are causing a commotion. If I were you, I would get out of Dodge while my men are distracted by pleasing the two other Overwatch agents, so they leave quietly.”

_____

“Bet no one’s ever said this to ya before but, you are one mighty scary fella when ya want to be,” Jesse flicked his hat back with finesse as he draped an arm around Hanzo’s broad shoulders. 

“And I did not even threaten bodily harm,” Hanzo smiled. He leaned heavily into Jesse’s body, enjoying the closeness of the other.

“I’ve seen people sweat before, but the way you reigned over that woman.” He let out a low whistle and slowly shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you used to be in charge of some sort of criminal empire where you threatened people on a daily basis. I had no idea you were so well versed in understanding California’s hospitality laws.”

Hanzo’s gaze drifted down to the passes he acquired in his hands as pride bubbled up inside his chest. His prize. “It was nothing,” He scoffed. “I merely entertained the notion that if Blizzard Incorporated were going to deny the contract, they instituted that lawyers would need to get involved and-”

“Stop,” Jesse laughed and squeezed Hanzo tighter to him and pressed a kiss against the side of his head. “I get it, you’re amazing.”

Hanzo’s toes curl in his shoes as the scent of gunpowder and sandalwood washed over him. He leaned farther into Jesse’s soft touch. “I have a confession to make, Jesse. I lied.”

Jesse gasped in mock alarm. “What?”

Slowly, Hanzo’s arm wrapped around Jesse’s lower back and rested comfortably on the other man’s hip. “I have never practiced California law, Jesse. I have never practiced any law. I do not know what sort of laws California has on arcade game prizes. I just knew that woman didn’t either.”

Jesse laughed again. He did not flinch from Hanzo’s hold. “Well, we didn’t get the honeymoon suite, but we got ourselves a room and a free dinner at the buffet. It’s not exactly steak, but at least it is all you can eat.” He patted his stomach for emphasis. “And, as an added bonus, we have a lifetime ban from all Blizzard World arcades. I think we can call today a success.”

Hanzo let out a soft hum. “We will not be able to check into the hotel for several more hours. What will we do with ourselves until then?”

“Honestly, ”Jesse let out a long, low sigh. “I assumed by now we would have run into meddling siblings trying to spy on us. I planned to harass them, but I am starting to think they are treating us with the respect we deserve.”

“So we do not have siblings here.” Hanzo shrugged. “What is your point?”

“So I feel safe to do this,” Jesse stopped. He leaned in then and softly pressed his lips against Hanzo’s. 

Hanzo gasped. A sharp intake of breath and Jesse shifted in front of Hanzo and gently cupped his face in both his hands as he tilted his head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss. His body quivered as his hand, still resting low on Jesse’s hip, slowly raised until he was holding onto the other’s man’s thick wrists, as if they were a lifeline, holding him firmly to this moment in time. 

Jesse tasted of smoke and cloves. Hanzo couldn’t remember when his eyes closed, only that he was floating forward, pressing himself eagerly against the other man and savoring the way the other man felt against his lips. His lips moved softly against Jesse’s as if this was a dance they had performed before; comfortable and tender. He felt the scratch of his beard and the slight hitch in his breath as he pulled Hanzo closer still.

A calloused thumb brushed gently over his cheek before Jesse pulled back, breaking the enchantment that overcame them both. Hanzo chased after, pressing his lips once again against Jesse’s soft mouth.

Jesse chuckled and pulled back, pressing his forehead against Hanzo’s. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” He mumbled before pressing another chaste kiss onto Hanzo’s lips.

Hanzo nodded, his breath coming hard and fast in time with his wild heartbeat. He looked up, into Jesse’s eyes and smiled. He had never noticed the little freckles that dotted along the ridge of his nose, nor the small scar hidden just under his beard. Nor the flickering of gold that existed deep in Jesse’s soft eyes. “Maybe you should do it again.” 

__________

The wind felt hotter somehow atop the blackened roof of the Cathedral. Genji panted and laid on his back, staring up into the blue sky. He cursed how perfect the weather had been, wishing a cold spell had overtaken the day and left him chilled and comfortable.

His ports hissed open as coolant poured through his synthetic skin and artificially cooled everything under the carbon exterior. 

Fareeha laughed. “It isn’t that hot out.”

“You haven’t spent the last five years living in a Tibetan monastery either,” Genji let out a low whine and sat up, fanning his face. “Not all of us did basic training in the Sahara.”

“The Sahara gets surprisingly cold at night,” THe black cloaked figure perched at the edge of the roof grumbled back at them, almost without thought. 

If anyone asked Genji if he thought his day would consist of working together with one of the world’s greatest terrorist threats with the common goal to see his brother and best friend finally admit they had feelings for one another while at the same time thwarting Talon’s influence over a family-friendly amusement park, he would have laughed. As it stood though, here he was, sitting atop a dark rollercoaster ride with the Reaper not five paces away. 

Gabriel Reyes looked like a hawk perched there. His white bone mask placed haphazardly next to him as he peered down at the sea of people below entering and exiting the ride through a pair of binoculars. For them, he would have looked like nothing but another gargoyle, watching and waiting, fending off harmful spirits.

Static hissed through the black walkie talkie at the Reaper’s hip before a cracking, distorted voice spoke through. “Operation HM is a go, sir.” There was a short pause while the receiver clicked several times. The Reaper did not move as he listened as if the confirmation to his pan meant nothing. “A-” The voice quivered. “Are you sure this is the way we should be going about this? Doomfist made it clear: Any Overwatch agents that got in our way were-”

The Reaper growled, snatching the radio off his belt and turning away from his vantage point. “Stick to the plan,” He hissed out, his voice as smoky and harsh. “If I hear another word of insolence from you,” He left the threat hanging in the air before raising the binoculars back up.

“Do you at least see them?” Fareeha asked. She scuffed her foot against the black rooftop and began to pace back and forth. “When can we have a turn looking?”

“You get a turn when you learn to pack your own gear,” The Reaper growled. “Now sit down. We can’t have anyone seeing you two are still in the park. You were supposed to be transported back to headquarters by now.”

Gabriel shook his head slowly and let the two children continue to bicker behind him as he turned his attention back to the crowded streets below. Turning Talon’s attention away had not been the easiest of tasks, but the lackadaisical attitude of the cowboy had been enough to convince them not to bother. 

Instead, he baited their attention to the two Overwatch agents they had captured. It had not taken much convincing to get them to believe both agents had been secured inside a cargo container and were to be shipped back to headquarters.

It was not hard to pick the pair out from the crowd below as they neared Tristram Cathedral. McCree made a wild gesture with his free hand while the other draped casually across the other’s back. Even from this distance, he could see the adoration on both their faces. 

Gabriel hummed, content with the scene before him.

_________

There was something magical about The Farstrider Lodge. From the moment they entered the luxury resort hotel, it felt as if they stepped into a rustic hunting lodge. The center of the lobby held a bubbling brook that fountained up along luminescent flowers of red and violet that flickered golden before dimming again, almost as if a spell was cast over them. The stream continued underfoot, visible through the glass flooring. Above them sat a canopy of stars, flickering to life as the sky turned beautiful, violently red, mimicking the dusk outside.

The line to the monorail was packed full of people hoping to get back to the park just in time for the fireworks display. 

At this rate, Jesse could have cared less about the night sky lighting up with brilliant colors, not when he had his arm still draped around Hanzo’s middle. Hanzo, who was ordinarily skittish around physical acts of affection, leaned further into his hold, claiming that the setting sun was brisk. It wasn’t, but Jesse wasn’t about to correct him. He wasn’t about to lose the electric need inside of him to just touch Hanzo Shimada for a little longer. 

“Checking in?” The pleasant woman, dressed in a sensible black suit smiled up at the pair. 

Hanzo stepped forward and handed her the pass they had received at the arcade. “Reservation will be under the name Morricone.” He smirked over to the man next to him.

Jesse let his thumb rub circles into the shin fabric of Hanzo’s shirt, just at his lower back. Even there he could feel the muscle ripple. The man did not have an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He wondered if when he wrapped both his hands around Hanzo’s thin waist if his fingers could almost touch. He sucked in a soft breath and calmed himself at the mental image that invaded his mind.

In time, Jesse reminded himself.

The woman frowned slightly and looked up at the pair. “Excuse me a moment,” She said before turning and heading into the manager’s office just behind the row of computers.

Hanzo clicked his tongue and frowned. “If they tricked us, I swear-”

“Easy,” Jesse chuckled and gave in to his desire. He wrapped both his arms around Hanzo’s middle and rested his chin against his shoulder. Jesse breathed in the earthy scent of the other man, like the rain after a thunderstorm. “These things happen. Ain’t no need to fight yet.”

Hanzo fell back into him, allowing Jesse to envelop him closer. He let out a soft huff and leaned his cheek against Jesse. “I do not wish to battle anyone. I wish to get to the room and rest.”

Jesse let out another low hum and squeezed him slightly. “Babe, at this rate, if I need to rent a car to smooch you in, I’ll do it.”

Hanzo let out a bark of laughter. “You will do no such thing!”

“What? Rent the car or-” He pressed a kiss against Hanzo’s neck. “Smooch you.”

“Don’t say that word!” Hanzo laughed again, oblivious to the other people around them. “You are a grown, adult man. Do not use words like smooch.”

“Fine. We can get a car and do some necking.”

Hanzo let out another sharp, rolling laugh as the receptionist returned with two keys in her hands. 

“Gentlemen, my apologies but there was an error in the system. It appears when we put in your reservation we were overbooked.” 

Jesse groaned and stood back up, pulling away from the warmth of Hanzo’s body. “So what does that mean?”

“Since this is a fault on our end, Blizzard World has upgraded your package as a way to apologize with no cost to you,” She held out the small envelope with the room keys. “You are now on the garden side and will have a clear view of the parks this evening. Enjoy your stay with us this evening.”

They found the elevators with ease and pressed the button for the eleventh floor.

“Upgraded my foot,” Jesse huffed and crossed his arms over his broad chest the moment the elevator door closed and they began their ascent up. “This is their way of giving us their worst room without us complaining, just you watch.”You ever been in a resort that just ‘upgraded’ you because they were overbooked?”

“Yes,” Hanzo stated. “But I was also the scion to a multinational criminal organization. I am accustomed to getting the finest things in life.” His eyes scanned slowly up Jesse, starting with his boots and lingered at his middle. Hanzo hummed in approval.

Jesse felt his face heat up as he watched the numbers over the door climb. “Eleventh floor is mighty high up.”

“Afraid of heights?”

Jesse let out a nervous laugh, “Just an observation.”

He wanted to wrap his arms around Hanzo once more. He wanted to pull him near and kiss the other man until he was breathless. How easy it would have been to push Hanzo up against the mirrored wall and trap him there with his body, let those long legs wrap around his middle as he kissed the breath out of him. He could leave them both breathless and needing and-

The door dinged. 

Hanzo stepped out. “Come along, cowboy.”

Jesse followed obediently down the long hall, passing door after door. “How far out of the way are they shoving us?” Jesse huffed, adjusting his pants slightly as they walked.

Hanzo chuckled as he stopped at the very end of the hallway. He turned and looked up at McCree with mischief in his eyes. “It seems as if we have a corner room.” He let the card pass over the lock, and he stepped in.

“Let’s just see how ‘upgraded’ this room is,” Jesse grunted as he stepped passed Hanzo and into the room.

There was an order to checking out a hotel room. Past sweeping for bugs, McCree had a rule. You could always tell what kind a room it was based solely on the level of detail in the bathroom. The room was fancy when the toilet was secluded off into its own unique little closet space, leaving the tub free for other people. Nothing kills romance more than looking at the place a person did their business. 

Standing showers were less than ideal. They were not meant for relaxing, no matter how big they were. They were a place to get cleaned up and get out. 

A bathtub was always lovely. It was traditional and allowed a person to soak when needed, but in most places, they weren’t built for men of his stature. He was all knees and elbows, and there was always some part of him that stuck out and was cold. 

He had once seen in a movie his absolute dream bath; a large hot tub placed in the center of the room, big enough to hold two grown men comfortably and faced the television. It was basic, and he would admit, just a little low class, but the idea of snuggling someone in the comfort of a tub all while watching something mind-numbing, and possibly romantic on tv. It just felt nice.

Jesse opened his mouth to explain his philosophy when it came to bathrooms when he looked up and gaped.

Hanzo had moved into the room and sat on the couch with a huge shit-eating grin on his marvelous face. He spread his arms out and hummed. He looked away from Jesse and out towards the balcony. “I must say, I am quite impressed with their least impressive room, McCree.” He turned his hand to inspect his nails before he smirked back to the man. Already, his shoes were off and neatly tucked away and out of sight, like the ninja he was trained to be. Efficient.

Jesse closed his mouth and opened it again like a fish as he stepped into the room proper. Large floor length windows opened up to a magnificent balcony that overlooked the park. There was a room beyond with a large bed. He let out a long low whistle as he looked back to Hanzo. He removed his hat and tossed it aside, onto one of the many side tables in the room before running a hand through his thick hair. “I stand corrected.”

Hanzo leaned further into the couch. His gaze slowly rolled over Jesse. “Well, Mr. McCree, we have successfully saved Blizzard World from the clutches of Talon, bested a challenging foe at the arcades and checked into a hotel. What shall we do next?” He smiled.

Jesse felt his insides melt at the smoldering look. He kicked off his boots and put them near the entryway. He had to step away before he did anything he would later regret. They had kissed several times today, each one slow and sweet. Each time he had to restrain himself from doing anything further than just the tender caresses against Hanzo’s arms and face.

The man was still in the process of healing, Jesse told himself. Every one of Hanzo’s coy, knowing looks did such things to him, making him want to push the man into a wall and claim what he wanted but…

But he didn’t want to push him away. He didn’t want to scare Hanzo into thinking that was all he was wanting from him and let Hanzo believe he was just another notch in the bedpost.

Jesse moved to the balcony window and looked out. From here, he could still see the spirals of the blue topped spirals of the castle glitter violet in the light of the setting sun as the first stars of the night began to twinkle into existence. He resolved himself and spoke, “Well, I happened to see a pool downstairs. We could go for a swim, then maybe grab some dinner while we’re out. The view here is nice too. We can come back here and see the fireworks then figure out sleeping arrangements.”

Strong arms circled his middle. Jesse gasped and leaned back into the other man as warm lips pressed delicately at the back of his neck. He shivered. “Damn, you move fast.”

The arms around him stiffened, and the lips pulled away. Jesse reached down and locked his hands over Hanzo’s the moment what he said registered. He leaned back. “I mean I wasn’t expecting you behind me, you damn assassin.” He tilted his head to the side and looked into Hanzo’s dark, worried eyes.

Vulnerable.

He had never seen Hanzo’s emotions so exposed. Those pretty dark eyes were searching his face for what to do next, calculating the next move like he was lining up for the kill shot only to realize his target was gone.

Jesse leaned back, closing the distance between their lips and pulled Hanzo’s arms tighter around him. It took several moments before Hanzo leaned into the soft kiss and deepening it further.

Jesse turned, cupping Hanzo’s face in both his hands and moaning loudly as he felt the warmth of Hanzo’s tongue against his bottom lip, almost asking for permission. He melted into the other man, letting their breath catch with each passing moment.

Electricity jolted through his core as he maneuvered Hanzo back, guiding him through the door to the bedroom. His body felt alive, his hands roaming freely and without any care, wanting to touch every part of Hanzo, wanting to feel each ripple of strong muscle, touching the raised skin around his magnificent tattoo.

Wanting to use his tongue to map out each scale along the blue, swirling body.

“Shit!” Jesse yelped the moment the back of his leg collided with an end table. Pain shocked through his body as the phone on top to crash to the floor along with several other brochures and pamphlets about Blizzard World attractions.

Jesse crumpled over the table, rubbing at the large bruise he knew was forming. “Jesus,” he grunted. “Been shot and stabbed and mutilated before plenty of times. Why is it table corners are the worst kinds of torture humans ever invented?” 

Hanzo laughed and pulled Jesse in again, kissing along his face before kneeling and putting everything right. “Maybe we should be watching what we are doing,” He stated, his voice already husky and breathless. He stood back to his full height and rubbed gently at Jesse’s back until the other man was able to stand straight again. “Is it bad?”

His smile was beautiful.

Jesse grunted and moved quickly, grappling Hanzo around the waist before swinging him up and over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. “Nope,” He grunted. “Can’t wait for that. You’re doing things to me that make me wanna do things to you.”

Hanzo laughed again, allowing himself to be carried over to the bed. “You are beyond ridiculous.” 

Jesse grunted as he unceremoniously dropped Hanzo onto the mattress. He stood up straight and smiled wide. “You gotta admit, you like my ridiculousness.” He jumped onto the bed and rolled on top of Hanzo, silencing him from answering with another kiss.

Hanzo rolled his hips smoothly, up into Jesse’s. Already he was hard, not that Jesse fared much better. “Dreamed about this moment for months,” He gasped and pulled at Hanzo’s shirt until it was up and over his head. Jesse flung it behind him.

Hanzo preened under his lusty gaze. “You’ve been dreaming of ramming your leg into a table for months?”

Jesse let out an almost animalistic growl as his hands came up and cupped at Hanzo’s chest, rolling his fingers along the rosy nipples before he leaned down and took one into his mouth. His mind was too foggy to come up with a witty comeback, knowing Hanzo’s sharp tongue would be his undoing if he continued. Instead, he would put his own to better use.

Hanzo gasped as teeth scraped against his skin. He arched up into that warm mouth as Jesse’s hands circled around his back and pinned him there, unable to squirm away as everything inside of him began to feel hot. 

Hanzo pulled at Jesse’s shirt, out of the waistband of his jeans and bunched at his armpits, unable to go any further. Hanzo let out a needy whine he would deny later as he rolled his hips up, against Jesse’s stomach. He needed to relieve some of the pressure building. He needed for Jesse to feel his exact effect on Hanzo’s body. 

Already, he felt as if the cowboy could play him like a fiddle. His toes curled in his socks as he opened his legs wider, letting the larger man settle in the space between.

Hanzo closed his eyes and choked as Jesse’s legs curled up, pressing his hardness against Hanzo, pinning his body against the bed in the exact position that Hanzo had dreamed of himself. He could feel Jesse’s powerful thighs roll forward, promising.

Hanzo’s hand curled up into the back of Jesse’s head, teasing and playing with the shorter hairs there, pulling slightly as those wicked teeth grazed against his over sensitive skin as that hot mouth moved up to lick and nip further at his neck. Lips suckled dark purple bruises into his skin that Hanzo would have no way of hiding later, not that he wanted to. 

He wanted to mark Jesse up as well, let the whole team know precisely what they were doing, how they did it. He belonged to Jesse now, and Jesse belonged to him.

The dragons stirred, preening with that wicked though. Jesse was theirs. He knew what they wanted, more than anything.

Hanzo reached down and cupped Jesse’s ass with his other hand, rolling his hips forward to meet McCree’s rhythm step for step. Not caring how his jeans began to pinch and strain. He gasped and moaned with every wicked flick of that skillful tongue.

“Jesse,” he managed as the other pulled away, leaving him feeling chilled. He opened his eyes and looked up as the man over him sat up straight, yanking his shirt over his head before he worked on his belt buckle. 

Jesse shook his head, panting hard and heavy. “Can’t do it. Can’t wait that long.” He managed before leaning down and giving Hanzo a sloppy kiss. “Wanted to do more, seein’ it’s a first time an’ all.” He sat up again and whipped the belt out of each loop and threw it aside as if it were nothing.

Hanzo nodded in agreement, his own hands flying to the button of his pants. He struggled to get them undone. Ideally, he pictured this moment in slow stages. A slow build up to each new act, like a production for only he and Jesse. They would take each other apart piece by piece. They would learn about the other’s bodies in stages and savoring each delicate moment.

The truth was much more animalistic. Hanzo could already feel the coil in his belly springing to its peak, and he was not even undressed yet. The moment Jesse touched him, licked at him, nipped at his skin. The moment the other man stroked his cock, Hanzo knew he would be unwound. 

Jesse looked like he did not fare much better. He panted as he rolled to the side, sliding off his jeans and underwear in quick succession. His cock sprang into view, red and leaking and impossibly hard.

Hanzo stared, his fingers hooked into his jeans as he stopped. “I-” 

Jesse laid flat against the bed, a hand over his eyes as he attempted to even out his breath. “I swear, Hanzo, I usually can do better’n this,” he said. “You just are doin’ such things to me.” 

Hanzo drank in his whole form. He had seen Jesse shirtless before, while training and just around the base, but seeing him up close was a different matter. He reached out and ran a hand through the thick hair on his chest, feeling the strong muscle under his skin ripple as Jesse grunted in satisfaction. “May I?” Hanzo breathed.

Jesse nodded, licking at his dry lips. “Just….just be warned; I am screwed up tighter than a...an-” he gasped, unable to complete whatever idiom he had in his brain as Hanzo leaned down and kissed along his chest.

Hanzo’s hands slowly roamed, feeling the differences between their bodies. Jesse’s middle was thick. He was built like a boxer, able to take a hit just as easily as dealing his own, powerful blows. 

His fingers traced over a raised scar that ran across the man’s stomach. A knife wound meant to gut him, but barely missed. He recognized the technique. Jesse’s skin felt hot under his fingertips as his hips rolled up, leaning into Hanzo’s wandering caresses that slowly worked themselves lower and lower until his hand rested on Jesse’s hip, his eye trained on the cock that jutted away from his body.

Jesse was long and thick in all the right places. Hanzo watched as the tip drooled pre down into a small pool against his belly, begging to be touched. Demanding release. It would be so easy to seat himself between Jesse’s thick thighs and grasp his cock in both hands. He could work him to completion so quickly right now. Watch as Jesse’s eyes would roll into the back of his skull as his back arched up. Streams of white hot cum streaking along his chest and stomach. Over Hanzo’s fingers. Those dark, rich moans the cowboy would make through it all, starting low and grunting and working their way up into high pitched whines, begging him for mercy.

“Don’t,” Jesse groaned. Hanzo’s eyes shot up, meeting Jesse’s golden, lust blown gaze. The cowboy shook his head. Jesse smirked, crooked and lopsided as he hooked his thumbs into Hanzo’s jeans and slowly worked them down, over his hips. “First time with you, I wanna be sure I can kiss you thought it….

“How could I deny you that simple pleasure?” Hanzo reached up and cupped his cheek in his hand, scratching through the other man’s beard before he leaned down and kissed him. Only once. Slowly.

Hanzo pulled back and shimmied out of his pants before he folded them up and dropped them neatly to the floor. His cock stood ramrod straight, away from his belly as he moved back to lay next to Jesse. Hanzo tangled his fingers into Jesse’s hair once again and kissed him. “I want you on me, just like before.” He whispered against his lips.

Jesse’s arms moved around his middle. He flipped Hanzo onto his back and once again trapped him under his impressive weight. Only this time….

This time he could feel every ripple of his muscles. He could feel the slide of Jesse’s hard cock against his. Hanzo opened his legs wider as Jesse’ knees came up and under him, his arms tightened around Hanzo’s middle. He buried his head in the crook of Hanzo’s neck and began to kiss and suckle and lick again.

He would not last long. Hanzo knew that. His arms wrapped around the back of Jesse’s shoulders, pulling him into a deep kiss as the two began to move again, hip grinding against hip. Their cocks, dragging along the length of each other, trapped in between the warmth of both their bodies.

Electricity shot through Hanzo’s body as the spongy head of his cock rolled against Jesse’s middle, slick and warm. He gasped and reached down between them, grasping both their cocks firmly in his hand as Jesse rocketed forward with each powerful thrust.

Jesse gasped and grunted against him, lips nipping at his ear, breathing against his neck. “I swear, Hanzo, I’m never gonna stop rockin’ your world, baby. Gonna make sure you are always satisfied. Wanna feel your warmth all around my cock. Wanna fill you up good.”

Hanzo shivered at the declaration, feeling everything inside of him stiffen and quake. 

Jesse groaned and moved harder, his balls slapping hard against Hanzo’s puckered hole, almost a promise of what was to come after. 

Hanzo cried out, his hand pulling hard at both their slick cocks as his vision went white. Jesse’s hand encircled his, and suddenly, it was too much to bear. Hanzo cried out, his back arching as Jesse kissed him, long and hard. Cum shot against his body, draining his balls as he quaked and quivered against the other.

Jesse collapsed on top of him, pressing spent kisses all along his swollen lips as Hanzo crumpled to the bed, his legs and arms like jelly. He felt the bed shift, and the warmth of Jesse leave him moments later, but he could not be bothered to open his eyes to watch. Soon a warm rag dragged over his overheated body, cleaning away the mess before the weight of Jesse returned.

“A true gentleman,” Hanzo smiled and lazily opened an eye.

“Aim to please,” Jesse pressed a soft kiss against Hanzo’s shoulder. “Promise next time I’ll last longer. And I’ll actually fuck you.”

Hanzo hummed and carded his finger’s lazily through Jesse’s hair. “I believe we will need to go out and get supplies to do that.” He smiled. “I was not expecting to end up in your bed this evening.” 

Jesse hummed and leaned into the touch. “Do you think we gotta thank our meddling siblings for this? I mean, I bet they had a hand in getting us the room upgrade and everything.”

“Absolutely not,” Hanzo smiled and kissed his lips again, sleepily. “We would never hear the end of it.”

“Doubt Hallmark makes a ‘thanks for helping me get laid’ card anyway.”

Hanzo curled up around the other and nodded. “We will finish what we didn’t get to tomorrow,” He mumbled. “And I will win you that baby Murloc we were denied.”

“Aw, babe,” Jesse smiled and pulled the other man in tighter, stroking along his back and feeling every notch in his spine. Wanting to memorize every plain in Hanzo’s body. “I’ll name him Chet.”

Outside, the sky popped as the first firework whizzed and whirred into the inky black darkness. The night sky glowed brilliantly for an instant, ablaze with golds and silvers. Blues and reds. Each one exploding loudly into the night sky and raining down, all according to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> So....I was asked to write this back in October...Happy Valentines day, Muja! <3 Sorry it took so long! You have been amazing and patient this whole time. This was so much fun of a prompt you gave me, I really went all the way with it. I hope you like it.
> 
> Also, thank you Kep for talking through things with me and beta-ing for me. I appreciate it.
> 
> This was a good experience for me. I learned that I have no self-control with writing and everything I do is novel length.


End file.
